


Rescue

by nihilistshiro



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Shiro (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Altean Lance (Voltron), Blade of Marmora Shiro (Voltron), Come Swallowing, Edging, Galra Shiro (Voltron), Kinktober, Nonbinary Lance (Voltron), Omega Lance (Voltron), Omega Verse, Other, Size Difference, Size Kink, Xenophilia, shance, they/them pronouns for lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 05:43:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21230741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilistshiro/pseuds/nihilistshiro
Summary: Lance is one of the last surviving Alteans trying to escape the Galra termination. An omega, Lance has paid a smuggler for safe passage that turns out to be not-so-safe. Thankfully, Blade of Marmora Shiro rescues them.





	Rescue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delphically](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delphically/gifts).

> Thank you so so much to my raffle winner [@_delphically](https://twitter.com/_delphically)!!! This prompt was for Kinktober Day 21: Size Difference/Edging/Swallowing. 
> 
> I rewrote this fic three different times and then found myself obsessing over a tragedy I read in the news and sometimes when I read things that are depressing, I want to rewrite them with a happy ending, so here we are. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The inside of the cargo vessel was pitch black and Lance had long since closed their eyes. They’d been traveling in the belly of a smuggler’s ship for the past four quintents with twenty other Altean refugees seeking to escape the Galra.

They were barely able to breathe, the oxygen supply in the hold running dangerously low. Each inhale was painful, their lips chapped, water a distant memory. Their skin was stretched taut across their bony frame, cheeks hollowed beneath pale blue markings. 

The ship was cruising toward Olkarion—a haven for the surviving Alteans seeking asylum. The only problem was getting there. Lance had paid the Unalu smuggler a handsome fee for the voyage. Their entire life savings. But hopefully, that money was put to good use and they could start anew, using their shapeshifting to evade the extermination crews Zarkon had deployed.

Lance scraped in another shallow breath, the scent of the dying Alteans around them, staining their mouth and throat. Most of the other Alteans there were betas, with a few young alphas peppered in. 

Lance was the lone omega, paying extra to ensure their safety from unwanted mating with the ship’s crew during transit. They hoped the voyage was nearly over, or they were in danger of starting their heat cycle. 

Lance doubted any of the alphas had the energy to cause problems for them, but it would mean additional discomfort and a weakened state. 

The ship lurched to a halt and Lance toppled onto their side, sprawling over a body stiff with rigor mortis. Bile rose in their throat, the scent of death finally permeating their exhausted haze. 

Lance wondered how many had already perished and if they were next?

There was a great rumbling and the sound of tearing metal. Stampeding feet thundered above the hull and the sharp ping of laser fire. A fight had broken out, but it seemed like a dream to Lance. Or perhaps a nightmare.

The fighting continued and a hatch in the ceiling opened, allowing a stream of bright light to streak across the darkness. Lance blearily blinked open their crusted eyes, rallying on their limited strength to lift their head. 

Two figures dropped from the ceiling and landed in the hold with twin thuds. Lance’s vision was blurry and they couldn’t make out their features, but their nose told them the newcomers were alphas. 

They struggled to sit up but didn’t have the strength. The figures were sweeping the room, checking for survivors.

“We’ve got twenty Alteans down here. Medical assistance required.”

The voice sounded like it was underwater, slugging through Lance’s muddled head.

“I’m not seeing any survivors.”

“Keep looking.”

“They’ve been down here for nearly an entire moon cycle. How do you think anyone could possibly survive that?”

“I know it may seem futile, Keith, but we owe it to them to check for any signs of life.”

Lance wanted to call out, but their throat was so dry they couldn’t make a sound. 

A large shadow passed over them and one of the alphas crouched down, their warm hand cupping Lance’s cheek and tilting his head.

“This one’s alive!” 

Lance focused on the alpha’s voice and gazed up into big eyes—liquid silver surrounded by piercing yellow.

Galra. 

Lance wanted to scream, but the eyes were tender and merciful. It must be a dream, then. 

“Stay with me,” the voice said as Lance drifted off. “I’ve got you. You’re going to make it.”

If the Galra had found them, Lance had already lost. Better to die in the hull of the ship than meet what horrors awaited them. 

The last thing Lance remembered before everything went black was a set of strong arms hoisting them up and cradling them into a broad chest. 

* * *

Shiro paced back and forth in front of the healing pod, his hands clasped behind his back. 

It had been three quintents since the Blade of Marmora had rescued the lone survivor from a botched smuggling operation. The Unalu that had initially promised safe passage to Olkarion was a double agent working with Zarkon’s forces. The Blade interfered before the ship could return to Daibazaal, but it had been close.

They were often too late to save most of the Alteans, save one omega who was hanging on by a thread. 

Shiro studied their face through the pod’s glass, tracing the long lashes and sharp jawline over and over again. If only he’d been faster, they could have saved more. 

The Blade was a growing faction within the Galra—a secret organization that did not believe in Zarkon’s tyranny and worked to liberate many beings from the Galra’s iron grip. 

“Still at it.” Keith’s voice cut across the empty room, and Shiro turned to look at his friend.

“Yeah. I know, I know. I’ll be notified when they wake up. I just can’t get them outta my head.”

Keith walked over to stand beside him, assessing the omega with a cutting stare. 

“They look weak. They’ll never survive here.”

“They don’t need to survive here,” Shiro countered. “As soon as they are fit, I’m taking them into hiding.”

“There is no hiding from the Galra. Olkarion? That’s a joke. The Galra will have conquered that world in no time.”

Shiro grit his teeth. “Don’t you think I know that?”

“Saving them might have been crueler than letting them die.”

Keith’s face was calm, but his eyes were cutting. They’d been soldiers for the Blade together since they presented as alpha and passed the trials. Brothers in arms. Shiro could read the concern layered beneath Keith’s cold retort. 

He was concerned because keeping an omega meant Shiro would constantly be a target. The Blades who decided to mate were Blades together. To mate a Blade, you had to be a Blade, and the Altean was wrong for the job. They wouldn’t make it past the first varga of training. 

“I will find a new homeworld for them.”

The conviction in Shiro’s voice kept Keith silent, and eventually, he left. Shiro stayed well past the night cycle, wondering who the omega was and how they managed to survive.

They had grown important to him in such a short amount of time. A symbol of the hope he was clinging to after so much loss and violence. After mission after failed mission, bodies piling up at his feet. 

The Galra scourge was explosive and inescapable. But maybe, if he could keep one single Altean from death, Shiro could find the courage to continue fighting a futile war.

* * *

Lance awoke three quintents later, incredibly confused and entirely suspicious. 

Even after the doctors explained The Blade of Marmora’s mission and that Lance was in perfect health, they were struggling to get a grasp on reality. Part of them felt as though they’d died and this was a strange illusion of the afterlife. 

Another was certain they were under some Galra ruse prepared by their witch.

They recovered slowly, acclimating to their new surroundings and trying to regain their strength.

Lance would have been much more hesitant were it not for the alpha who had saved them—Shiro.

He was attentive to Lance’s every need, treating him with a tenderness Lance didn’t think was possible, given his massive stature and domineering appearance.

Shiro was easily two heads taller than Lance with broad shoulders and fluffy, pointed ears that jutted out amidst his dark hair. One of his arms was mechanical, no doubt designed by the witch’s druids, and he had a scar across the bridge of his nose, running beneath a shock of white fringe at his crown.

Shiro explained once that he was a gladiator in Zarkon’s arena, but the Blade rescued him.

Perhaps that explained his compassion.

Lance walked into the small dining hall, ignoring the looks of the other Blades in the room. They made a beeline for the table where Shiro was sitting.

“Good morning,” Lance said, pouring themself some of the steaming navy liquid that the Galra called kávé.

“Mrnf!” Shiro replied around a large bite of his breakfast. 

Lance chuckled, feeling the tension in their shoulders ease. They took a deep breath, letting Shiro’s scent calm the tingling instincts curling at the back of their skull.

Shiro scooped up food from the communal dishes in the center onto a plate and handed it to Lance, knowing their preferences among the unfamiliar Galra fare. Lance thanked him and tucked into their breakfast. 

They spent the day together as had become their routine. Shiro would start training, and Lance would work out on their own, nothing so rigorous as what the Blades did, but enough to regain their physicality. 

Shiro paused his sparring with three other Blades when an alpha came in with instructions for Shiro to go on a mission.

He told Lance as they ate their afternoon meal, finding a quiet spot in an old storage bay that had a window and a view of the universe spilling out around them. The base was positioned on a meteor and afforded them unfettered access to the sprawling cosmos.

“I don’t think I’ll be gone long,” Shiro said, his big body curled into the curve of the wall, hunched over. 

“Be safe,” Lance said, their gaze trailing over the stars as they tried to ignore the pang of longing the sucked a hole in their chest.

“Of course. I’ll be back before you know it. Who knows, I might even find a safe place for you while I’m gone.”

Lance narrowed their gaze and glared at the alpha. “Is that what this is about? Have your superiors finally bid you be rid of me?”

Shiro’s jaw tightened for a split second before all the air rushed out of him in a heavy sigh. 

“Yes. If you are not staying as a Blade, you must find somewhere else. It is the only way to keep you safe.”

“I could become a Blade.” The blue of Lance’s eyes sparked. “I don’t want to go back out there alone.”

Shiro opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“You don’t think I can,” Lance murmured, dropping their gaze as their slender shoulders followed suit. “I must be a horrible burden on you.”

“No,” Shiro said, reaching down to cup Lance’s jaw. “You are not a burden. You - you brought back hope to my life. I don’t want you to go, but I also can’t let you suffer here.”

Lance’s anger flared bright again, their head throbbing with the dips and peaks of their emotions. “It is my choice to make. I was the one who got on that ship to escape. I was the one to make my own decision to flee. If I want to become a Blade, or at least try to, that is my choice and no one else’s.”

For a moment, they glared at each other—Lance with their obstinance and Shiro with his shock. A tick passed, and their mouths crashed down upon each other.

Lance moaned into Shiro’s mouth and their hands wound around his neck to pull at his fur, Lance’s thighs pressed together against the hot pleasure coursing through them. 

Shiro’s arm circled Lance’s waist, hauling them into the bow of his body, a growl rumbling in his chest. His scent wrapped around Lance like a sliver of fabric, silky against their skin as it tightened and slithered until they were left with nothing else. 

Lance breathed in deep, pushing their nose against Shiro’s gland. A crisp, cool morning wind running over fresh juniberry blossoms where they grew between the mountains, the duality of youth and the eternal entwined with Shiro’s own heady musk. 

It felt like fate. Like every moment of Lance’s life had been leading them down the path it took to get here. In Shiro’s embrace.

Shiro licked the seam of their lips, nipping along the corner of Lance’s mouth—an alpha eager for entry so that he could lay waste to the writhing creature in his arms. 

Lance felt moisture between their thighs, their small breasts aching where they rubbed along the harsh fabric of Shiro’s uniform. 

“My heat,” Lance whispered, their lips brushing along the gland of Shiro’s throat. “It...it’s not supposed to start yet.”

But Lance’s scent had already begun to change, their mouth watering, stomach aching with need. 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Shiro whispered, the fur of his neck tickling Lance’s cheeks. “I’ve got you.” 

Lance keened, their legs splitting over Shiro’s thigh as they began to grind their hips.

Next to them, the window began to fog with condensation as their body heat mingled.

“Please,” Lance begged, eyes watering as the urge to mate and be mated twisted into something unbearable. “Shiro, please, I—“

Shiro gripped Lance’s snowy white hair and pulled their head back, exposing their throat. 

“Hush. I have everything you need.”

Shiro’s teeth grazed the gland on Lance’s throat before pulling it between his lips and sucking. Lance cried out, their body convulsing, nipples hardened to stiff peaks beneath the fabric of their simple robes.

Shiro’s mouth traveled down to Lance’s collarbone, his teeth tearing at the fabric to expose more, his hunger radiating off of him in waves. 

“More,” Shiro growled, his free hand hiking up Lance’s robes and sliding along the supple flesh of their thigh.

Lance was putty in Shiro’s hands, melting into his touch. They pulled at their garments until they were free, the material falling to the floor in a great heap. 

Shiro’s hand was so large it spanned Lance’s side from their hip to just beneath their armpit. Altean omegas were known to shapeshift during mating to make themselves smaller so their alphas could easily dominate them—an ancient genetic tick of sorts. 

Shiro purred, his mouth returning to Lance’s skin, biting lavender bruises across their breasts and ribs. Shiro moved lower still, falling to one knee before the omega, his tongue leaving a hot, wet trail across Lance’s hip. Their stomach. Their inner thigh.

Shiro nudged Lance’s knees apart and nuzzled between them until he found the glands buried near the Altean’s sex. He inhaled the musky scent there, his tongue laving over each gland as though he were devouring his last meal. 

Lance could only hang onto Shiro’s shoulders for dear life, their knees trembling. The small tentacle that was hooded above their front entrance began to emerge—a sign that an omega was aroused and ready for copulation.

“I have never mated with an Altean before,” Shiro said as he pulled back to gaze at Lance’s face.

Lance felt themself flushing, Shiro’s mouth covered with slick oil, his eyes hooded with lust.

“I’ve... I’ve never mated before.”

Shiro stalled, his ears flicking. “Do you want to continue? I need a confirmation first.”

Lance’s face softened. How like their hero alpha to be chivalrous on all fronts.

“I don’t know what tomorrow might bring,” Lance said, running their fingers through Shiro’s fringe. “Whatever may come, let me have this memory of you.”

Shiro didn’t miss a beat, merely ran his hands up and down Lance’s thighs, smiling fondly at them. 

“I will take care of you, my omega.” 

His lips parted and he licked a stripe up Lance’s tentacle. Lance jolted and cried out. 

“Shiro!”

“Hmmm,” Shiro hummed. “You taste so good.”

Shiro proceeded to pull Lance into his mouth, his hand slipping between Lance’s thighs to tease his glands while he worked Lance over with his eager tongue.

Raging lust pummeled Lance’s senses. Their appendage was growing hard in Shiro’s mouth, and they began to rock their hips, their fingers tugging at Shiro’s hair, the shaggy fur of his ears brushing against Lance’s thighs.

Shiro’s hand moved past Lance’s gland, traveling up until his fingertips brushed between Lance’s sensitive lips, gliding through nacreous slick. Lance was so tiny in his hold, his tongue easily wrapping around their tentacle, clawed fingers delicately nudging Lance’s tight entrance.

Lance’s head fell back as the first finger slipped inside them. It wasn’t uncomfortable per se, but it was a stretch, and they wanted more. Shiro reached further, adding another finger as he pulled back and pushed in deeper—an intoxicating rhythm that gave Lance a head rush. 

Shiro’s mouth suckled in time with his clever fingers, and Lance felt their entire body tense. It was so much more than when they had worked through their heats. It was intimate. Personal.

They looked at Shiro through the dampness on their lashes, their legs trembling as fire exploded in their blood, their entrance clenching around Shiro’s fingers as they came hot spurts into his mouth.

Shiro didn’t stop, swallowing Lance’s cum as he continued to milk them through their orgasm. 

Shiro slipped his hand free in time to catch Lance around the waist as they collapsed, their muscles spent. 

“That was...oh my... I’ve never…” 

Words seemed to evade the omega, their body covered in a light sheen of sweat. 

“Here,” Shiro murmured, lifting his fingers to Lance’s lips. “Taste yourself.”

His golden eyes were glowing as he watched Lance’s mouth open and pull his fingers in. 

Shiro’s cock was already rock hard, his instincts screaming at him to lay Lance out and fuck them into the floor. But he couldn’t. Not for the omega’s first time. He needed to be gentle with them. To bring them some semblance of pleasure given all they’d been through.

They were exquisitely beautiful, their face flushed, making their Altean markings stand out even more. 

Shiro drew his fingers out of Lance’s mouth and leaned up to kiss them. They were so small in his hold he barely had to lift his head when he was kneeling to reach their lips.

“I want more,” Lance said against Shiro’s lips, their voice tentative and shaking.

“I’ll give you everything,” Shiro replied, kissing Lance again so that he might convey the depth of his longing.

Lance whimpered into the kiss and Shiro swept inside, their tongues dueling in an age-old dance that spoke to instincts sewn long before either of them were born.

Shiro was panting when he sat back on his heels, his hands still holding firm to Lance’s waist. 

“Take off your clothes,” Lance ordered, and Shiro blanked for a moment at the omega’s command, then his lips curled into a feline grin. 

“As you wish, my omega.”

Shiro pushed the release on the back of his uniform and the dark material sagged. He slipped out off it, shifting and peeling until he was completely nude.

Lance’s mouth popped open as they stared at Shiro’s cock, which was jutting proudly between his purple thighs. It was darker than the rest of his fur—indigo in hue—with a forked head. There were twin rows of round bumps all along the underside of his shaft, and a fat knot sitting at the base. 

“Like what you see?” Shiro asked, arching one sharp brow.

Lance dropped their gaze in embarrassment, their cheeks flaming red.

“Yes,” they said in an adorable pout and Shiro pulled them into his arms, guiding them to the floor.

“You are unlike any mate I’ve ever known,” Shiro said and there was a tenderness coating the desire burning in his eyes. He slid his hands along Lance’s body, teasing them anew as he whispered into their skin. “I do not know what gods brought us together, but I cannot imagine a horizon that does not hold your smile.”

Lance moaned and the dueling sensations of their aching core and full heart darted through them like racing engines, each eager to surpass the other. They didn’t know if their body was in control or if they were responding to Shiro’s newfound patch in the fabric of their soul.

“Please,” Lance murmured and they did not know what they were asking for, only that they weren’t close enough.

Shiro nuzzled the gland at their throat, lapping up excess oil that began to run down the side of Lance’s neck. 

“Anything,” Shiro said. “Name it, dear one, and you can have anything from me.”

Lance arched off the metal floor, their breasts over sensitive as they rubbed along Shiro’s soft fur. Their knees fell open, making way for Shiro to move between them. 

“I want to feel you moving inside me,” Lance said, their hands crawling up Shiro’s back until they hooked over his shoulders, their nails digging into his thick muscles. 

Shiro’s nostrils flared and for the first time, he was unsure of himself. What if it did not meet Lance’s expectations? What if they deemed him an unfit mate?

Shiro swallowed, batting away his insecurities to find a point of calm. Focus on Lance, that is what he needed to do. He listened to the part of his brain that was telling him to take care of his omega, concentrating on the noises Lance was making, the twitches in their movement that told him they liked something.

He let Lance’s scent intoxicate them until everything else fell away, and he was left only with them. 

Shiro’s fingers returned to Lance’s front, sliding lower and lower until he found their sex. He stroked their tentacle, relishing in the way it grew full and thick in his hand.

It curled into his touch, the pink appendage slick with their cum. Shiro dipped lower still, thrusting two fingers into Lance, who cried out, bucking beneath Shiro’s bulky frame.

Their legs spread wider still, hips gently rocking as they sought more. Shiro was only happy to accommodate, adding a third finger, marveling at the way Lance’s body opened for him.

Shiro nipped at Lance’s nipples and Lance dug their heels into the floor, writhing against Shiro’s hands as another climax loomed over them. 

Shiro withdrew his fingers, leaving Lance a keening mess. 

“Why did you stop?” Lance asked, voice high and hoarse.

Their face was scrunched into another pout that Shiro was quickly coming to love. 

He grinned, suddenly needing to hear Lance beg for him—a prospect so devious and desirable that Shiro’s loins ached when he thought of it.

Lance frowned. “You mean to tease me? That’s not very nice of you.”

“Maybe I don’t feel like being nice,” Shiro said, biting a bruise into Lance’s chest. “Maybe I just want to see you squirm.”

With that, Shiro proceeded to cover every inch of Lance’s body with his teeth and lips, leaving a trail of spit and bruises across Lance’s smooth skin.

Shiro was fascinated with the way the furless omega felt. They were like a smooth river stone—velvety and soft. 

He worked his way down to Lance’s sex, teasing their tentacle before going lower still, fucking them with his tongue.

Lance let out bright little yells, convulsing as they tried to withstand his ministrations. 

Moisture dampened Shiro’s face, matting his fur as Lance grinded against his mouth. Shiro dipped his tongue in and curled it, finding a small internal mound. It was ridged, and when he pressed his tongue against it, Lance shrieked and groaned, a ragged sound that echoed in Shiro’s head, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Yes!” Lance screamed, fingernails dragging across Shiro’s scalp. “Right there!”

Shiro felt Lance’s muscles tense, their hole constricting as tension built, their tentacle leaking as it bobbed against Shiro’s head. 

The thought sent a bolt of laughter through Shiro, allowing him to remember his sinister plan long enough to pull back. He was panting for air, great chest heaving, his lips wet with Lance’s slick.

He drew the back of his hand across his mouth, eyes boring into Lance where they shook on the floor.

Shiro crawled up their body, their thighs splitting high hips with ease. Precum dribbled from each side of Shiro’s forked crown, and he gathered it in his palm and stroked himself, readying himself so that he wouldn’t hurt Lance.

He clamped down on the lust fizzing in the back of his skull and lined himself up with Lance’s entrance. He pulled the prongs on the head of his cock together and slid inside, entering Lance slow and steady. 

It was so tight, he wasn’t sure it Lance could take him fully despite his best efforts to prepare them.

“You’re so big,” Lance whimpered, their body relaxing as they adjusted to Shiro’s cock.

Shiro could only go so far, holding when he bottled out, despite only half his cock fitting. Once seated, his head expanded, his Galra anatomy designed so that an alpha’s seed could be directed at each ovary. 

Lance was pliant beneath him, slowly rolling their body to move around Shiro’s cock. Shiro hissed through his teeth as he slowly dragged his hips back and forth.

“It’s too tight,” Lance said and Shiro felt a pulse of fear run down his spine.

“Are you hurt? Do you need to stop?”

“No, just,” Lance grunted and propped themself up on their elbows. “Just give me a second.”

Shiro stared as Lance closed their eyes and shifted, their appearance morphing into features that mimicked a Galra. They loosened around him, their hole transforming to make more room for him.

“That’s incredible,” Shiro said, eyes shining down on Lance.

Lance preened, pleased to have made their alpha happy. It took a considerable amount of energy to shift, but the expenditure was worth it.

“Now, then,” Lance said, wrapping their legs around Shiro’s waist and pulling him in deeper. “Mate with me.”

Shiro groaned, sliding out and pushing back in until his cock was swallowed down to the knot. Lance was still tight, but their body had room to accommodate him. 

Lance stroked their hands up and down Shiro’s biceps, murmuring to him about how good they felt and how handsome he was. Shiro melted beneath that praise, letting Lance’s voice wash over him like a warm wind, shaking him to his core.

Shiro thrust in and out in a quick rhythm, working them both to a frenzy. When he would intensify the snap of his hips, Lance would bite into the curve of his neck, just below his gland. And in this way, they became rivals, bartering back and forth for dominance as their bodies careened higher on an uncharted path, setting fire to everything they’d known and everything they’d been and forging them into something new and alive.

Lance began moving against him in earnest, their head flinging from side to side as they screamed his name. He felt their tentacle circle the base of his knot and Shiro rammed forward, his knot sinking into Lance’s hole as his vision blacked out.

He came so hard he let out a roar that scraped up his throat as thick ropes of hot cum pumped into Lance. 

Lance followed him shortly, their body winding tighter and tighter until it snapped, undulating between Shiro and the floor as desire ripped them apart. 

Shiro’s knot inflated, sealing them together as they slowly drifted in and out of the fog that settled around them, the scent of them unmistakably entwined now—someone would not be able to smell one without smelling the other. 

Shiro cradled Lance in his arms, rolling so that Lance was on top, slumped down against his chest. 

“You are incredible,” Shiro said, burying his nose in Lance’s hair and inhaling deeply.

Lance purred, their muscles slack and their eyes shut, their lips curling in a satisfied grin. 

“Right back atcha, Big Guy.”

Shiro chuckled and they slowly drifted down together, snuggling close as the universe sprawled out beyond them.

When Shiro’s knot finally released, Lance transformed back into their standard form. 

“So, when do we begin training.”

“Training?”

“Oh, come on, Shiro, you know what I’m talking about,” Lance said, propping themself up on an elbow to lean over Shiro. “Training to become a Blade. If I stay, I have to be a Blade, right? When do we start.”

“You really wanna do this?” Shiro asked, fingertips trailing down Lance’s spine, their breasts cushioned against his chest. “It will be very hard.”

“I’m sure it will be,” Lance said, staring into Shiro’s eyes with a warmth that lit Shiro from the inside out. “But, I will have an excellent teacher.”

Shiro returned Lance’s smile and slipped his fingers into Lance’s hair, pulling them down for a kiss.

“And I’m sure you will be an excellent student,” Shiro said in the breath between them.

They traded more kisses and dozed before mating again in the wee hours of the morning, complete in their coupling.

Around them, the universe was in shambles. There was no guaranteeing more time, but they could take hold of the present. 

And they would do it together. 

  
  



End file.
